


Like Nun Other

by SinisterScribe



Category: Dracula (TV 2020)
Genre: Again, Agatha is a strong independent woman, Agatha is the Worst Nun Ever, Aggie is a Top, Dracula is smitten, F/M, I Never Write Those, I have Surrounded Dracula With Family, I wanted to write a Meet/Cute, I was trying to think of the most blood sucking profession for a modern dracula, Literal Bible Bashing Occurs Within, Lucy is here to make jokes about the dick, Modern AU, Porn Also Though, There is Kinda Plot to This, This is as Close as it Gets Folks, WTF, after some dick, aren't we all, no one is straight here, so he's a landlord, the venn diagram of the reasons I'm going to hell and the things I find funny is a circle
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-01
Updated: 2021-02-20
Packaged: 2021-03-18 15:48:25
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 18,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29120724
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SinisterScribe/pseuds/SinisterScribe
Summary: The title is terrible but I'm still cackling about it.A modern AU in which Agatha and Dracula meet under unusual circumstances and hit it off.I don't have a plot for this really. I just wanted to write them hooking up.Ratings for my usual.
Relationships: Dracula/Agatha Van Helsing
Comments: 51
Kudos: 64





	1. A Truly Singular Individual

**Author's Note:**

> I have not decided where this is going or if it is really going to go anywhere after the three chapters I have planned. 
> 
> I guess we'll find out after I write chapter 3.

**1 – A Truly Singular Individual**

**_Wildfire, London…_ **

Dracula looked out over the heaving crowd of bodies on the dancefloor and attempted not to feel as jaded and ancient as he was.

He sipped from his disappointing malt and scanned the dimly lit club, ignoring the thump of bass rattling his ribs, and searched for his target.

Why Lucy would insist on meeting him _here_ he would never know.

Wildfire was a club coming to the end of its currently branded life and as such was not as popular as it perhaps could have been. That and the floor was uncomfortably sticky, the drinks watered down and the local drug peddlers a trifle more _obvious_ than Dracula preferred in his usual haunts. The clientele were all terribly _young_ and _hip_ and Dracula quite believed he might vomit on the next person that called him ‘daddy’.

Dracula none too subtly checked his watch once more and stifled an orbital roll of his eyes when he saw Lucy was late. Again. Why the girl couldn’t keep time, he would never know, but a promise was a promise so here he was.

Even if he was bored out of his well-bred skull.

Dracula glanced over the throngs of people around him and searched for something, anything, that might entertain him until his appointment decided to show herself. He resisted the urge to lean against the bar, not least of all because it seemed as terribly sticky as the floor, and cast his dark gaze over the club once more.

He went _entirely_ stock still when he saw the nun.

Dracula blinked rapidly, something of his formative years in catholic school causing his spine to straighten before he could stop it though the interest wasn’t entirely Pavlovian. 

Dracula felt his lips kick in something of a smirk when he saw that the nun wore the exact same expression of impolite disdain upon her face that he did. She stood in a full habit, pale blue in colour, complete with wimple of brilliant white that shone lurid under the flashing blacklights. She had a face that would have been called striking by someone generous and harsh by someone more honest. Still, Dracula thought her full mouth and the long lashes of her wide eyes softened her considerably, even if she looked close to throttling the person that was slurring at her.

The oversized and gaudy crucifix hanging from the rosary beads looped at her hip was Dracula’s first clue that she was not a true Sister of the Cloth that had taken a wrong turn somewhere. He noted the slightest wing of eyeliner, the sheen of lipstick and the _very intriguing_ black pointed patent of her shoes peeking out beneath the hem of her robes.

So not a real nun. In costume.

He was _almost_ disappointed.

Still, she was quite the most interesting person he had seen all night and he _was_ in need of entertainment.

Dracula continued to watch the nun, draining his drink despite the lacklustre vintage, and mulled over his best approach. She looked completely unimpressed with the environment she found herself in and that had to be a commonality between them. Perhaps something to play on?

Dracula finished his drink, clapping the tumbler down onto the bar and pushed away, making a beeline for the nun.

He was not a small man. He stood head and shoulders above most of the utter children that writhed about on the dancefloor and was easily quite a bit broader than all of them. The crowd parted for him without any conscious effort on his part and he was quietly pleased that it would allow him to make _quite_ the entrance.

Or it would have.

Had she not narrowed her eyes at something he could not see and moved off before he could reach her.

Dracula hitched a step, stunned, watching her go.

Her expression had changed, whatever she had seen displeased her _greatly_ and malice rolled off her in a barely constrained tide front. If the crowds had parted for Dracula, they all but dived out of the way for the nun.

She made it into one of the darker corners of the club in record time, leaving Dracula to struggle to keep up. He pushed after her, curiosity well and truly piqued, and arrived in time to see things devolve entirely.

Dracula had time to note three men in the corner, a woman trapped between them. He read the body language in an instant. The men with their backs to the club at large, one of them twisting to be a lookout but becoming increasingly distracted by the woman between them.

The woman was Lucy and she did not appear to be enjoying the male attention she garnered.

She was smiling, of course she was, Lucy smiled at everything. Though it did not reach her eyes. Eyes that were glassy with drink and perhaps something else though widened and white like a spooked horse at the situation that was unfolding around her. Some small part of her, whichever part it was that remained sober, was aware that she was in danger. 

Dracula’s jaw clenched, his eyes narrowing and he started towards the group with a new purpose. Forgetting entirely that the nun had quite the head start on him.

She stopped behind the largest of the three men, lifting one graceful hand to tap him on the shoulder.

He turned, scowling at being interrupted, but the nun was already swinging.

Dracula halted an incredulous step, his brows racing for his dark hairline when the nun produced an honest to god _Bible_ from the depths of her habit and swung it with extreme prejudice.

Dracula actually coughed a laugh when the nun swung all the way up from her knees and clapped the hefty hardback into the youth’s chin with all of her whip thin might.

The man was staggered, stumbling badly backwards, crashing into one of his friends and leaving a gap in the trio.

Lucy, not being daft in the slightest, darted out of the space provided and immediately took up residence behind her nun. Clutching her shoulder and shouting something that no doubt would do very little to calm the situation.

It mattered little, the nun wasn’t waiting for anyone to get their bearings.

She swung with the Bible again, a continued arc from her uppercut into the leader’s jaw and brought the whole thing crashing down on the skull of the third. He folded up like a cheap wallet as the Bible snapped in half, splitting along the pages and spilling the contents all over the floor around them.

A purse. The nun had been carrying a Bible shaped purse.

Dracula was _delighted_.

By this point, the leader had recovered and was lumbering around to the idea that his face quite hurt and a woman appeared to be responsible. He shoved off of his friend, grasping for Lucy or the nun and was met with a gaudy crucifix/rosary bead knuckleduster. The nun had fisted her hands in the rosary at her hip and hoisted it free, lashing out in a roundhouse to the boy’s cheek that sent him staggering again, a lurid red cross stamped across the side of his face.

Dracula wished he had the time to laugh but things were quickly escalating and it was three against one. Perhaps one and a half considering the way Lucy was capable of little more than loitering behind her Sisterly friend and heckling.

Dracula surged forward when the second lad regained himself and lunged for Lucy. He interposed himself between the two and the boy smacked into Dracula, finding an immovable wall of muscle where he had hoped to find vulnerable victim. The boy bounced off but Dracula already had him by the collar and had hoisted him off the floor, lashing forward from the waist and planting his forehead into the boy’s nose.

A howl pierced the club, even through the music and Dracula hurled the lad away, turning to back up the nun in her crusade.

He saw a flash of very shapely leg as she hoisted up the hem of her habit and then slammed the pointed heel of her stiletto shoe down into the instep of the third lad. He toppled, reeling, clutching his foot and crying.

The leader caught her with a backhand which she barely seemed to even _notice_ before she rounded on him, teeth bared in a feral smile, and rammed her crucifix into his face for a second time.

Dracula snorted in amusement, he couldn’t help it, and snatched the boy by the scruff before he could make another pass at the nun. He hoisted the lad off his feet and hurled him bodily over a table, sending him slithering over the sticky floor.

“Oof!”

The first lad Dracula had nutted had returned and hurled himself into Dracula’s back, attempting to tackle him to the floor. Dracula leaned back, using his bulk and weight to his advantage, lifting his feet off the floor and landing on the boy with an elbow to his liver and a pathetic mewl of pity from the miscreant.

Dracula rolled back to his feet, his coat torn open, one of the buttons missing, and _straight_ into a punch to the mouth from a newcomer.

Dracula tottered a step, recalibrating and looked down at some complete stranger that had attacked him.

A rosary slipped over the unfortunate’s neck and he was hauled backward by a very irate pseudo-nun to be yanked to the floor. Lucy stomping on his stomach where he fell.

Things went entirely downhill after that.

**_Later, Outside, With the Ambulances…_ **

“How many fingers?”

“Three.”

“Follow the light.”

Dracula’s dark eyes tracked the penlight obediently and smiled as winsomely as a man can with bloodied teeth when the paramedic seemed to be quite cross with him and not at all impressed with his sobriety or reflexes.

“Lose consciousness at all?” The paramedic remained stoic.

“No.”

“Alright, think it’s just a fat lip and the beginnings of a shiner. You seem to be in one piece.” The paramedic tapped over her I-pad, adding patient notes and then looked up at him. “Head to your GP if you suffer any dizziness or nausea, alright? Treat the pain with over the counter meds.”

“Yes, ma’am.” Dracula attempted charm again but the paramedic merely arched a brow at him and then moved off to her next patient.

Dracula was shooed out of the ambulance and went in search of Lucy. He was almost certain he had heard her high pitch a few moments ago. She shouldn’t be too difficult to find. If the rest of the night was any indication, then he should simply head for the epicentre of the carnage.

Dracula shrugged his coat over his shoulders once more, lamenting briefly the loss of a perfectly good lining in places but thought it well worth the price of a decent tussle. He meandered through the throng of people, deftly avoiding the police where he could, and headed for a larger cluster of emergency services employees.

“Aggggiiiieeeeee, you’re my hero!”

Ah, that sounded familiar.

Dracula skirted a harried looking constable in his high-vis jacket, rubbing at his chin to turn his face away from the man’s interested look and then sidled up to one of the ambulances that was triaging those involved in the all out brawl that had consumed the club.

“You need to sit still, Lucy. Let them get an IV into you at least.”

Dracula’s ears all but perked at the throaty voice that sought to soothe his recalcitrant…Lucy.

Could this be the nun?

Dracula rounded a clump of drunken stragglers nursing bruises and found himself at the foot of another ambulance, nun propping one of the doors open, talking to a clearly inebriated Lucy.

Lucy’s glassy eyes landed on him and she lit up.

“BIG D!”

“Fuck!” Dracula lunged forward when Lucy slipped out of the clutches of her two paramedics and hurled herself towards Dracula with the heedless trust of someone completely off their face.

He caught Lucy against his chest awkwardly, saving her from a face first introduction to the cobbles beneath his feet. He sighed when she wrapped her arms around his neck and planted a sloppy kiss on his cheek.

“You came!” Lucy effused. “Hell of a party, innit?!”

“Quite lively.” Dracula agreed, smiling apologetically at the paramedics and carrying Lucy back into the ambulance.

It was a little awkward, but her kitten weight was negligible and he settled her firmly onto the gurney.

“Stay.” He told her firmly. “Let them treat you.”

“Very forceful.” Lucy winked drunkenly at him and then collapsed back against the raised pillow of the bed in a fit of giggles.

“You know her?” One of the paramedics turned to Dracula as he dropped down out the back of the ambulance again.

“It has been said.” Dracula murmured with a shrug of one shoulder, attempting not to be too obvious in glancing at the nun still propping up the back of the ambulance.

She had either lost her wimple at some point or had seen fit to remove it. Her hair was a mane of deep brown waves that cascaded down her back almost to her waist in what should have been a sweaty mess but he somehow thought made her look…tumbled.

Her eyes were a brilliant blue, white hot as a summer sky, and she watched him from beneath hooded lashes. Apparently as unimpressed with him as the paramedic had been in his own ambulance.

“Do you know what she took?”

“I don’t think she took anything.” Dracula reluctantly turned to face the paramedic again. “I saw her in the company of three strangers before a fight broke out. She did not look to be enjoying it.”

“Arseholes.” Lucy slurred succinctly. “No means no.” She snorted and then grinned wickedly, sniggering at her nun friend. “Boss, I can’t believe you lit’rally Bible-bashed them.” Lucy devolved entirely into breathless laughter at that point.

“Allegedly.” The nun said in her sotto voice.

The paramedics traded a look with one another and then turned back to their patient.

“Boss?” Dracula interposed himself into the narrative since Lucy was too drunk for introductions.

“Big _D_ , this is Aggie Helsing, she runs the lady classes at the gym!” Lucy looked delighted to impart the news and waved effusively at the apparent Aggie.

“Self-defence, by any chance?” Dracula seized the opportunity to speak to her and turned to Agatha.

“Krav Maga.” Aggie smiled with a slight narrowing of her eyes.

“ _Nice._ ” Dracula was not insincere in the slightest, grinning from ear to ear despite how it pulled at his sore lip. “Israeli, isn’t it?”

“Favoured by MOSSAD.” Aggie dipped her chin in a nod and held out one hand to shake, Dracula having apparently passed whatever test she had lain out for him. “I prefer Agatha. You’re not untrained yourself.”

“I go by Dracula, by those who claim to be civilised.” Dracula’s smile became smaller but more secretive as his hand engulfed hers. He could feel the calluses now. From the wrappings she’d wear to support her wrists and keep her knuckles from shattering during training. “I do dabble in the martial arts. We must compare notes sometime.”

Agatha raised an eyebrow at the blatant innuendo but her eyes traced over him with a bare knuckled practicality. Measuring his height, weight and reach.

“It’d be a pleasure.”

“Brace y’self, D. Aggie’s a top.”

Agatha sent a glare Lucy’s way but Dracula just grinned all the wider.

It dropped when someone appeared out of nowhere at Agatha’s side.

“Agatha! I came as quick as I could!”

“Jack.” Agatha didn’t look surprised to see him in the slightest. “Just in time, Lucy is about to go to the hospital.”

“The hospital? What happened? People are talking. Something about a brawl and a crazy nun…” Jack trailed off when his gaze dropped down, noticing Agatha’s costume for the first time. His shoulders slumped a little. “ _Agatha_.”

“Mm, yes, probably best if you go with Lucy and _I_ avoid the local constabulary.” Agatha forced a smile and patted Jack on the shoulder.

“Uuhh…” Jack looked somewhat frantically between Agatha and Lucy, evidently wondering which of his lady friends needed him more.

Lucy seemed to sway him when she smiled beatifically, patting the miniscule space beside her on the gurney.

“Don’t worry, Jack! Big D will take Aggie home. Won’t you, D?!” Lucy dissolved into giggles again for no apparent reason and Jack hesitated, looking up and _up_ at Dracula.

“Someone also might wish to phone Mathias. He will want to know what has happened to his errant lady.” Dracula shrugged his coat from his shoulders and held it out to Agatha. “It might cover your dress. The police are circling closer.”

Agatha hesitated a moment and then simply took the jacket, shrugging it on and bundling it about herself with a small word of thanks.

“I can call, Matt.” Jack nodded, already pulling his mobile from his pocket and scrolling through the contacts. “You’ll be…alright?” He looked up at Agatha after a second.

“Make sure she doesn’t happen to anyone, D!” Lucy shouted unnecessarily loudly.

“I have a car that I may call.” Dracula dropped his hands into his pockets.

“You know Matt?” Agatha nodded to Jack, pushing him towards the ambulance, but spoke to Dracula.

“Passingly familiar. We hail from the same womb.” Dracula smirked and Agatha’s chin kicked up when it slotted together.

“ _You’re_ the brother.”

“One of.” Dracula sketched a courtly bow with an exaggerated wave and seamlessly offered her his arm. “Might I escort you to a cab, my lady?”

Agatha snorted in plain amusement but spotted the high-vis vests of the police milling closer to them and tucked herself into his side without missing a beat.

“Keep me apprised.” She told Jack.

“Text me when you’re in safe.” Jack nodded, shooting a look at Dracula and the elder man had to chuckle.

Agatha had already proved that she was more than capable of defending herself.

They moved off as the ambulance crew slammed the doors closed and the sirens whooped once in warning before the van moved off.

Dracula interposed himself between the police and Agatha and meandered with purpose away from the crowd still reliving the fight to one another and licking their various scrapes and bruises. He was a striking figure, and still stood taller than everyone else, but that just meant no one could see past him to Agatha hiding in his shadow.

“Do you want a cab or my car?” Dracula pulled his mobile from his pocket, unlocking it with a swipe and scrolling through the contacts.

“Whichever is easier?”

“You’re alright? You don’t need to be checked out by someone medical?”

“I’m starving, but other than that, I’m great.” Agatha grinned broadly up at him and Dracula couldn’t help but answer it with one of his own. She truly was delightful.

It was evident that they had several people in common; Lucy was engaged to Mathias, Dracula’s youngest brother. Both brothers knew well of Jack Seward (Dracula had seen him in Lucy’s photos on social media) and the boy’s helpless pining after her. Dracula had been mildly interested in the boy for a moment or two but it had become clear he was never going to act on his infatuation unless invited. That and he was just as much Mathias’ type as Lucy was so he saw no need to interfere with his baby brother finding a situation that pleased everyone.

Lucy had spoken often of her ‘amazing’ boss who ran self-defence classes primarily aimed at women in the gym where she worked. She had liked this woman enough to be poached from her job at the high end health spa where she had met Mathias and taken up a position in marketing and media relations in the little hole in the wall place that Agatha had apparently built from the ground up.

Agatha must have heard of him in some way from Lucy and perhaps even Mathias. The two of them must have spoken kindly of him if she was willing to tuck herself into his side like this after just meeting.

He would need to thank them both later for lying so prettily about him.

“Hungry? Shall I feed you? What would you like?” Dracula himself was beginning to hunger. He had missed dinner working late at the office and had intended to eat when he went home after checking in on Lucy.

Things had obviously transpired.

“Hmmm…” Agatha pressed her lips together, her gaze trailing from the open neck of his shirt and _all_ the way down. She considered a moment and then seemed to come to a decision.

“What do you have in your fridge?”

Dracula grinned, showing off his blood stained teeth.

**_The Car…_ **

Agatha was not at all surprised that Dracula Balaur of Rhaegal Industries was dripping with money.

He had summoned a town car at a moment’s notice for them, not giving her the chance to have second thoughts about going home with him. Not that she had anyway. The man was practically edible. All tall, dark and charm.

That and being in a fight always made her…hungry.

Dracula had simply been in the right place at the right time. He had not only moved to help her without knowing who she was, but he had done so _competently_ and that was far more attractive than Agatha had thought possible. He had a mean right and a devastating left, not to mention that he had literally just _dropped_ on a man to get the upper hand. He was an absolute unit of a human being and seemed more than aware of that strength and just how to use it.

Having spent most of her career educating supposed ‘fighters’ that thought they knew what they were doing after a couple of back alley scraps, to find a man that seemed to know what he was doing and had been _helping_ her rather than attempting to save her…it was intriguing.

Certainly intriguing enough to follow him home to his lavish apartment for _dinner._

Agatha’s blood was up from the fight. Shivery and twitchy with adrenaline after putting more than a few idiots face first into the floor. She drilled every day and she sparred often but there was always something so intoxicatingly different when it came to being in an _actual_ fight. Something real and invigorating. Something that made her feel so alive and -well- horny.

In fact, she’d have slithered onto Dracula’s lap long before they reached his home had his brother not called him.

Dracula, not unaware of the look in her eyes, had evidently considered ignoring the call but had sighed and taken it anyway.

Still, it had afforded Agatha the opportunity to try and gain some modicum of dignity. There was no privacy window between them and the driver after all and she had been treated to listening to Dracula soothe his younger brother.

Mathias was a sweetheart and treated Lucy like…she needed him to. Agatha couldn’t pretend that the relationship, as open as it apparently was, would have suited her. Though Lucy and Matt always angled back towards one another for as long as she had known them and had seemed more than content to formalise that loyalty. She hadn’t been overly surprised when Lucy had accepted the proposal. Matt had a gentler look than his elder brother but was undeniably handsome and incredibly eligible. Born with more money than most banks, dressed to show it off and just famous enough to appeal to Lucy’s vanity…no, Agatha hadn’t been surprised.

She _had_ been surprised when she realised they actually loved one another quite dearly. Matt steadied Lucy and she had kept him in good spirits when he had been ill the year before. Some kind of clotting problem that had taken forever to diagnose. He had proposed to Lucy once he was well again and accepted her conditions, naming a few of his own and they were due to be married in a month or so.

Agatha could not remember _when_ she had asked if Matt had a brother. She had been joking. It was what you said when your friend seemed to have found the only decent man in the Greater London area. She had been a little taken aback when Lucy had gushed that Matt had _many_ siblings and most of them single and which one would Agatha like to be introduced to?

Agatha had laughed it off but…well, she was sitting next to the second son to the Rhaegal empire and appeared to be going home with him to ride him until they were both lame.

“Mathias, I have to go. We’re here.” Dracula rumbled to his brother, having talked out the events of the evening. He had let his younger brother know who to buy, bribe or threaten in order to get the CCTV footage from the club, find the men that had drugged Lucy and make sure they had a _very_ bad time.

Dracula hesitated a moment, glancing at Agatha at whatever was said to him.

“I’m with Agatha, Lucy’s boss. Making sure she gets home alright.”

Agatha arched an eyebrow at him. She supposed she would find her own home eventually, but not just yet.

“Well, baby brother, had you wanted her for yourself, you probably should have made it known before now. Buh-bye.” Dracula pulled the phone away from his ear, ending the call and Agatha blinked at that.

Still, he was out of the car and rounding it to open the door for her before she could ask him what he meant.

“My lady.” He offered his hand to her and she rolled her eyes but let him help her from the car. “Thank you, Tom. That will be it for the night.”

“I’ll be ready when you need me, sir. Ma’am.” Tom, the driver, nodded to Dracula and Agatha in turn. His smile was polite and not at all judgemental. He admirably did not give the impression that she must have been one of many women he had driven home with Dracula.

“Thank you, Tom.” Agatha waved to him, even as Dracula tucked her close into his side, herding her towards his building.

She glanced up. They were in a _nice_ part of town. The apartment building, one of many owned and built by Dracula’s family company loomed above them. Imposing and gothic. Up lit with rainbow lights this time of year to reflect the company’s support of Pride. They reflected hideously off the several gargoyles and colossus statues carved into the supporting pillars of the building. It even had turrets and honest to god banners fluttering from the arched windows in places. Agatha couldn’t hold in a snort.

“Minimalist.” Agatha looked up at Dracula, waving to the two hellhound shaped statues rearing rampant at the doors to the lobby. He grinned wickedly.

“I designed them myself. They have names.” He told her archly and nodded to the doorman as they entered the building and headed straight for the penthouse elevator.

Dracula produced a key for the lift, ushering her in.

Agatha noted that they were in a very private space and considered sandwiching him between her and the wall but held herself back. She had the notion that once they started, they would not soon stop and she did so hate to be interrupted.

“How was Matt?” Agatha retreated to the other side of the elevator carriage and Dracula watched her go like a wolf considering its next meal.

“Fine. Causing chaos. In his element.” Dracula’s black eyes dropped down her figure, to the points of her shoes peeking out beneath the hem of her shapeless dress and she was momentarily surprised that he found her at all attractive in this stupid get up but he evidently was so she wasn’t about to question it. “Why the wimple?”

Agatha gusted a laugh, surprised it had taken him this long to ask.

“Lucy’s theme for her hen night; vicars and whores.”

Dracula’s head ticked to the side, a softer smile of genuine amusement tugging at his lips.

“And you chose nun?”

“Couldn’t get a Vicar costume on such short notice.” Agatha shrugged.

“I have to say, the accessories make it.” Dracula nodded to her much repaired Bible clutch purse and Agatha grinned again.

“Etsy’s a terrible place at three in the morning.”

He barked a laugh and sobered a moment when the elevator chimed, doors parting on his floor.

And it was just his floor. The elevator opened onto a private hall of blood red carpet, black marble panelling and arching alabaster ceilings.

Well, at least the gothic theme was consistent throughout.

“This way.” Dracula beckoned her with a crook of his finger and preceded her to the front door. Opening it for her and leaving it wide in his wake, letting her choose to follow him still.

Agatha appreciated the courtesy for what it was but she’d made her mind up the moment she’d seen him take a punch full to the face and just _grin._

She closed the door behind her, watching him pad deeper into the apartment, talking about what he could make for her to eat, like she had come all this way for a goddamn cheeseboard.

Agatha shrugged the jacket he had given her from her shoulders. She dumped it on the hallway table along with her ridiculous rosary prop and Bible clutch. She glanced at herself in the mirror, straightened the remains of her white wimple and then leaned back against the front door.

Her hand fisted in her skirts, the fingers of one hand grasping the fabric upward, inching it higher and higher up her leg as she waited for him to realise she wasn’t behind him anymore.

He noticed when she didn’t answer him about what she wanted to drink.

He turned to her, mussed and delicious. His hair in disarray, his own blood staining his chin and neck. His shirt open at the throat and rolled back to the elbows on his sleeves. His eyes turned a lightless black when he saw how she had arranged herself for him. He inhaled deeply, nostrils flaring and his huge chest expanding.

Oh yes. Yes please.

Agatha ran her tongue over her teeth and crooked her finger, beckoning him wordlessly back to her.

Dracula grinned, showing all of his teeth and prowled towards her. 


	2. Dessert First

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which our two 'have dinner'.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi guys!
> 
> Sorry for the delay in updating but I got hella sick last week and have been bedridden with the dreaded lurgy since. Not the Virus but a virus, certainly. So I have been wibbly and weak and unable to do anything for the longest damn time. Today was the first day I was capable, so I finished off this chapter and decided Valentines was the absolute best time to post this kind of chapter. 
> 
> Enjoy.

**2 – Dessert First**

Dracula realised after a moment that Agatha had gone quiet and he repressed a wince.

It was a pity if she were having second thoughts about following him home. She did not really know him and he knew the world was a risky place for women. Particularly when they dared go after what they wanted.

He inhaled deeply, preparing to hide his disappointment and turned back to reassure her. He would call a cab for her if she preferred and she could go home if she liked. Or they really could just have dinner. He was willing to wait if that was what she wished or to leave her in peace.

He could not deny that he was drawn to her. She seemed all but tailored to him with her lean strength, statuesque height and sardonic wit. Not to mention that she could fell a man with a bedamned _purse_.

Still, if she did not want him in return, that was that.

Dracula opened his mouth to assure her that it was fine, she could go if she wished but the words died before they ever made it past his lips.

Oh.

She was leaning back against the front door, her head cocked, watching him from beneath hooded lashes and her skirts hiked up near to the hip on one side. It showed off the lean length of her leg but the draping fabric hid far too much.

Oh. _Not_ changing her mind at all.

Agatha smirked, slow and _hungry_ and crooked her finger at him, beckoning him closer without a further word.

He quite agreed. Words were unnecessary at this juncture.

Dracula loosed a low growl, he couldn’t help himself, crossing the space between them in long ground eating strides. He did not stop until he was chest to chest with her, pinning her against the door and his hands buried in her hair. He brought her lips up under his and seized her in a kiss.

She made a small sound of surprise, obviously not expecting that he might wish to finesse her in any way. He grinned into her mouth, his tongue stealing past her lips. Kissing her furiously. Until she forgot herself. Until she dropped her skirts. Until her fingers tunnelled into his own hair, angling his mouth against hers in the manner she preferred.

She was not gentle, a little rough with her movements and Dracula rumbled a pleased sound. Just a bit of bite to her. A scrape of her nails against his scalp, a nibble of her teeth on his lip. Sweet with a sting.

Delightful.

Dracula’s thigh slid between hers and Agatha rolled her hips into him with a purr into his mouth. She grasped her skirts, hoisting them once more to give her the freedom to hitch one knee around his hip. She ground against him, riding the muscle of his thigh and tore her mouth from his on a whimper.

Dracula grinned, his hands skating down her body, finding her breasts beneath the thin material of her nun’s habit.

“ _Fuck_.” Agatha’s head thumped back against the wood of the door, her voice thrumming against his teeth scraping her throat.

Her spine arched when his thumbs dragged back and forth over her taut nipples. Hot teasing shocks arrowing through her body at the contact. He was rough, through the barrier of the fabric, but didn’t appear to be in any hurry to get it out of the way.

Agatha was clutching at his shoulder with one hand and gripping his hip with the other, urging his bulk closer between her legs. He was huge, towering over even her and she wasn’t small. He kissed her deliciously, overpowering, and her hand slid up over the rippling muscles of his back to burrow through the thick luxury of his hair.

She was on _fire_ for him.

The adrenaline come down had turned to a simmer in her blood and she wanted nothing more than a good, hard, fuck.

Dracula seemed more than willing to provide.

His huge hands grasped fistfuls of her skirt, throwing it up around her hips out of the way and his hand delving beneath like a snake after a free meal.

Truly embarrassing sounds were ripped from Agatha when his fingers slithered between her legs and he cupped her cunt through the material of her underwear. The heel of his hand ground against her clit and she gasped, riding his hand shamelessly.

“Off. Get them off.” Agatha gasped into his mouth when he lifted his head from nibbling at her neck to steal another drugging kiss. “ _Fuck me_.”

“Absolutely.” Dracula grinned, stealing one more kiss from her and then dropped fluidly to his knees.

He caught her panties in his fingers, dragging them down the long lines of her legs and encouraging her to step free of them.

Agatha was prepared to pounce then and there, her hands grasping his shoulders, fully intending on hurling him to the floor so she might have her way.

“Ah, no. I want to taste you first.” Dracula grasped her naked hips beneath the swath of her dress and pushed her back against the door.

Agatha made a frustrated sound. How long was she going to have to put up with that noise? Men always thought they were so much better at eating a woman out than they actually were and Agatha certainly wanted to be _fucked_ not to humour anyone.

“Patience is a virtue. Surely a nun should know that.” Dracula grinned up at her before he disappeared beneath her skirts and Agatha was _unprepared_.

Dracula hoisted her leg over his shoulder, her sharp high heel digging into his shirt over his back but he didn’t appear to care. He growled into the crease of her inner thigh, pressing a stinging bite there hard enough to make her gasp. Then he buried his face between her thighs and burrowed his tongue in her cunt.

“God- -!” Agatha choked, her spine arching as if electrified.

Using the broad flat of his tongue, Dracula rasped a long hard lick over the breadth of her clit, two long fingers sliding into the wet heat of her cunt at exactly the same time. His fingers curled expertly, strumming over that incandescent spot deep inside her at the same time as he lapped noisily at her clit. Kissing and sucking. _Devouring her_.

Agatha’s one leg that supported her buckled but Dracula just picked her up entirely, slinging that leg over his shoulder so she was astride him. She had the presence of mind to drag her skirts out of the way, fisting both hands in his hair and grinding his whole face into her. She had forgotten about anything other than the feel of him between her legs and panted raggedly, heedless of his need to breathe.

Dracula didn’t appear to mind.

He immersed himself in his chosen task. Lapping up the taste of her and greedily inhaling the scent. She was so responsive. Astride his shoulders and pinned between his mouth and the door. He curled his fingers inside her, finding her G spot and stroking, stroking, _stroking_. She whimpered pleasantly for him, her sharp nails carding against his scalp with a sting that sang down his spine towards his cock.

She was sopping for him. The fight in the club must have had a similar effect on her as it had on him and that knowledge was seared in white hot letters across Dracula’s brain. She fit against him beautifully. Fucking herself onto his mouth and hand, taking what she wanted and breathlessly directing him when he erred too much on the side of gentle. She would not break. She could take him.

He growled at that and she _trembled_ for him at the sound and vibration of his teeth against her clit.

She was wonderful. He could invest his every sense in her. Drowning himself in the smell, the feel, the taste of her. Filling his hands with the toned curves of her arse in his hands, the strength of her thighs around his head. His ears perked for every whimper and plea that mewled from her. Pushing her higher and higher, driving her ruthlessly towards an orgasm that was going to ruin her for any other.

Never let it be said that Dracula wasn’t intent on excelling.

A third finger slid into her alongside the first two, stretching her with a burn, the ridge of his teeth teasing back and forth over her clit. The point of his tongue finessing the sensitive sides, darting at the hood. She was so close. Riding him mercilessly, both hands fisted in his hair and cursing him out with her wonderfully accented English.

He thought about teasing her. Bringing her frustratingly close to the edge before easing off. Building her up again and again until he finally let her come and she near blacked out from the intensity of it.

He might have, had he not seen her in action earlier in the evening. He didn’t know if she would waste the energy required to beat him senseless for toying with her but she definitely seemed the type that would strongly consider it before taking herself places elsewhere to reach her satisfaction.

Yes, probably best to give her a reason to stick around. Once she knew what he was capable of, _then_ he could tease her with it.

He chuckled darkly at the idea of this being more than a single dalliance and it was that which finally tipped her over. 

Agatha couldn’t even scream.

All the air left her on a breathless sound, her hands fisted in his hair and her ankles locked over his back, holding him in place as she came wetly all over his face.

Dracula thrummed a pleased sound, licking greedily. Sucking on her then his fingers one after the other and then back to digging his tongue into her cunt, lapping up the full taste of her.

“Enough.” Agatha’s voice was a choked rasp, her throat raw.

She clasped his head between her hands, peeling him back from her.

“ _Enough_.”

Dracula grumbled, but let himself be pushed back onto his heels. He helped her dismount, one trembling leg after the other, and steadied her against the door.

Agatha panted, breathing just as hard as he was, and stared down at him.

Well, he could certainly do that again whenever he wanted.

But first.

Dracula actually yelped when Agatha planted a foot on his chest and sent him sprawling onto his back on the hallway floor. He dissolved into a throaty laugh when she pounced on him, landing astride his hips and taking him completely to the floor, her mouth slanting hot and hungry over his.

Oh, she kissed like she wanted to devour him. Her hands in his hair, evidently loving the thick feel of it, and her knees drawn tight around his hips. Her tongue thrust into his mouth, pinning his head to the floor with a clunk and she sucked her taste from his tongue.

Her fingers curled from his hair and down over the pronounced cords of his neck. She splayed both hands over the expanse of his chest, flexing her fingers so the edge of her nails scraped at him through his shirt. Her hands fisted in the silky material and inched towards the buttons, loosing them one by one, baring him to her. She yanked the tails of his shirt from his trousers, rising up so only a scant inch was between them to do so. She seemed quite partial to being plastered to him as closely as possible.

Dracula was perfectly okay with that.

She was scorching where she was pressed against him. All molten heat and dripping arousal. He was fairly confident that he had short circuited at least a few neurons with that orgasm but Agatha was not one to be outdone.

The hand that wasn’t buried in his hair was far from idle. It wound down over the shivering skin of his belly to find his belt buckle and loosen it with a truly impressive skill. His trousers were unbuttoned and unzipped with equal dexterity and Dracula practically purred into her mouth when her greedy fingers slipped into his underwear to coil possessively around his cock.

“Very nice.” Agatha sat up a little, breathing hard. Her lips swollen from his kisses. Her tongue tracing over the taste of herself that she had stolen from his mouth.

“I do try.” Dracula wasn’t breathing so easily himself.

“You do and you did _so_ well for me.” Agatha’s brilliant blue eyes glittered, roving over him and cataloguing this ripple of muscle across his bared chest, the way his abdomen tightened when her thumb swept over the dripping head of his cock.

Oh, yes, he would do nicely.

“Though I think I shall fuck you now.” Agatha sat up, straddling his thighs and leaned over to the hallway table, snagging her Bible shaped purse and clattering it onto the floor at their side. She rummaged until she could pull a ribbon of condoms free.

“Very prepared.” Dracula smirked, noting how many she had on her person. “Ambitious, even.”

“Hush.” Agatha told him firmly, inching down his thighs a little, dragging his trousers with her.

Dracula arched helpfully until his clothes were tangled about his knees and Agatha was crouched above him, all bright eyes and feral hunger. Her hot breath ghosted over the tip of his cock and he bit back a whimper.

She grinned, delighted in his response and tore the condom packet open, surprising him by taking it into her mouth, holding it between her lips. He was _unprepared_ for her to lean forward and to swallow his cock without warning. Her lips unrolled the condom down over his length and Dracula growled. His hands tangling in the length of her hair, gathering it up and out of the way so he could watch her cheeks hollow as she sucked on him.

“Fu-uuuck!” Dracula was struggling to breathe.

Even through the rubber, she was scorching hot. Her mouth welcoming and _skilled_ in a manner not common to him.

He watched, entranced as her head bobbed up and down, effortlessly taking him incredibly deep into her mouth until he felt her throat tighten on his cock head. She never once gagged and he attempted to remain in control so that he did not catch her unawares.

“Jesus Christ!” Dracula’s head fell back when she realised even her impressive skills couldn’t accommodate all of him and she growled in disapproval. The vibrations did… _interesting_ things to him.

Her busy hands attended to the length of him that she couldn’t swallow. Stroking and squeezing in _just_ the right ways. Her fingers caging around his balls, the bite of her nails reminding him that she could be dangerous if she wanted to.

That thought should not have been as attractive as he found it.

Agatha hummed around his cock filling her mouth, evidently enjoying herself. She held the rubber firm at the thick base of his cock so it didn’t catch in her throat and indulged herself in simple task of making a lover mindless with her mouth on them.

He smelled delicious. The soft scent of sandalwood, presumably his soap, combined with the spiced scent of sweat and sex clinging to him. His hips flexed beneath her, the corded muscles of his thighs rock hard under her hand splayed against him to hold her upright. He bit back grunts and growls, guttural and raw with feeling as he tried not to fuck her throat, knowing it would be unpleasant for her if he did and wise enough to realise her teeth were at the ideal spot for retribution.

His hands were buried in her hair. He had gathered the mass of it up into a knot atop her head so his view was clear. One hand held it out of the way whilst the other let his fingers comb through her hair and massage at her scalp.

God, he was even good at that.

She made a mental note to be petted by him more thoroughly later. When he was less desperate for her.

“Woman! Fuck!” His hands tightened in her hair and he tugged gently but insistently.

Agatha lifted her head, her thumb still rubbing the underside of his cock which throbbed in her grip. She rocked her jaw, loosening the tension there and then grinned.

“Too much?”

“Not enough. I was promised a fucking.” Dracula grinned despite his ragged breathing and tugged at her shoulders. “Come _here_.”

“Just making sure you were ready for me.” Agatha allowed herself to be led by the hair up the length of his body so she could favour him with another wet kiss.

Good grief, he was _good_ at that.

She hummed into him, letting him kiss her greedily. His other arm winding around her waist and pulling her flush against him, hips jostling up against hers seemingly without conscious thought.

“I was ready for you in the club. How does this come off?” Dracula grumbled at the barrier of her dress between them and she belatedly realised that she was still wearing it. Nearly entirely fully dressed.

“Do you want it all the way off?” Agatha organised her long legs about him, hoisting her skirts up so she could sit directly against the iron bar of his cock.

He rumbled a pleased sound at the contact and blinked hazily, taking a moment to remember that she had asked him a question.

“You were staring earlier. In the club. Your interest seemed… _impure_.”

“Oh.” Dracula grinned up at her. “You noticed me then?”

“Difficult not to. You’re huge.” Agatha chuckled.

“I’ll ease you into it.” He promised and considered her a moment, fingers fidgeting with the hem of her dress bunched around his hips and her thighs. “I want to see you as you ride me. Off with it.”

Agatha smirked, more than happy to oblige. It was hot and sweaty under the polyester blend and it was probably doing ridiculous static things to her hair. Tilting her head back, Agatha worked at the clasp of the white collar spanning her shoulders. She dropped it to the floor and then grasped the hem of the dress, pulling it up and off now that the neck wasn’t so closed.

“Very nice.” Dracula breathed, his hands spanning her slim waist, eyes devouring her.

Agatha was whip thin, always had been, but muscle rippled over the entire length of her. Flexing beneath her skin like molten metal. Not packed on like a body builder but lean and feral like some sort of wildcat. Functional and dangerous. It was evident that she worked physically for a living and that sharpness to her appealed to Dracula more than he had thought possible.

“Beautiful.” Dracula thrummed, his hands sliding up over the flex of her ribs as she panted a little, his thumbs twanging the strap of her bra. “This too?”

Agatha smirked and arched for him, the wet heat of her cunt sliding against the sensitivity of his cock as she reached behind herself to strip her bra away.

“Heels on or off?” Agatha surprised him by shifting her weight, flexing one leg fully around so that the full length of it lay over his torso, her black patent shoe nudging at his cheekbone in mild threat.

Dracula huffed out a breath, beginning to realise precisely how singular Agatha truly was and found himself altogether a little tongue tied. He coughed after a moment and managed words once more.

“Lady’s choice.”

“ _Good._ ” Agatha praised him, folding herself in half in order to kiss him whilst she removed the shoe by his ear.

Dracula groaned into her mouth, electing to simply surrender to her. It was evident by this point that he was woefully outmatched and he was more than willing to let her do whatever she wished with him.

Agatha straightened up, clunking her heel to the floor and twisted back to unstrap the other, tossing it away to thud against the hardwood flooring. She made a small pleased sound at removing the restrictive heels that forced her ankles to an uncomfortable angle. Turning back to him, her hands spanning over his heaving chest, her pleased sound was louder indeed.

Dracula, for his part, tried to remember to breathe around the anticipation seizing his chest. His hands stroked over the toned length of her thighs, desperate to see what she might do next. He was torn between prompting her when she just seemed to appreciate the sight of him for a moment but restrained himself, realising that letting her have him was all part of her charm.

Agatha’s fingers wound down over his chest, raking idly at his ribs, stroking over the quiver of his abdominals and much, much, lower to wrap around his cock again.

She laughed, throaty and pleased, when all the air rushed from his lungs at the sensation. Her grip was as strong as the rest of her suggested it would be and Dracula was quite arrested to be held so _firmly_ but somehow still gently. Agatha rose up onto her knees, taking him by the wrist and bringing his hand to her mouth. She surprised him by pressing a sweet kiss to the centre of his palm right before shocking him to his core when she sucked two of his fingers deep into the hot cavern of her mouth at the _exact_ same moment as she sank down onto his cock.

Dracula made a choked sound of aroused surprise, his entire body curling involuntarily up towards her and she chuckled, pleased with herself, around his fingers still sucked into the heat of her mouth.

Dracula was far from virginal. He would go as far as to say he was worldly in many aspects of bed play and had tried most things at least once. He was a hedonist in every aspect of his life, sex perhaps most of all, and was more than accustomed to assorted partners using props of varying debauchery to pique and maintain his interest for a time.

He was somewhat floored (literally apparently) that Agatha could completely entrap him with nothing more than herself and her smile.

Agatha worked him into her cunt with slow, rolling, hitches of her hips down towards his. Giving him time to fully appreciate how her pronounced muscle tone obviously extended _all over_. Her cunt clenched around him like a vice. Internal muscles rolling against his throbbing cock with easily as much skill as her tongue wrapped around his fingers. She sank onto him, grinding down as his hips bumped up so that he was sheathed to the hilt. That sudden heft of his cock into her caused a pleasant little hitch in her breathing.

It was a relief to know that he wasn’t the only one affected.

She hummed deep in her throat, dragging his fingers from her mouth and grinned at him. Dracula wasted no time in threading his fingers through her hair and pulling her toward him, tilting his chin up in invitation.

Agatha purred into the kiss and rose up, letting his cock slide almost completely free of her _still_ clenching cunt and then dropped sharply back down again.

Dracula grunted, his teeth catching on her lip at the unexpected sensation when her hips _twisted_ against his on the downstroke and did marvellous corkscrew things to his cock. He pushed himself upright, eager to be closer to her, and nipped at her chin, the sharp line of her jaw and lower. His teeth raked at her neck, grazing over her clavicle and he bared his teeth hard against her shoulder.

Still she rode him. Her whole body rising and falling, pushing herself down onto his cock with seemingly every muscle she possessed. She practically fucked him into the floor. Never letting up with that sinuous little _twist_ of her hips as he slid in to the hilt.

Agatha leveraged herself with one hand fisted in his hair, holding his mouth to her neck, and the other gripping his shoulder. God, she was strong!

Her arms were constrictor tight around his head and shoulders, her thighs vice-like bracketing his hips and her breakneck rhythm never faltered despite how it must have been taxing on her. Sweat slicked her, a pretty flush painting the highest points of her sharp cheekbones and her eyes were glassy with arousal.

Dracula was very aware that he was not going to last long subjected to such treatment and had no intention of letting her be left behind.

Working a hand between them, he managed to angle the pad of his thumb against her clit. Wrapping his lips around a nipple and sucking hard enough to make her gasp.

Agatha’s hips stuttered, thrown off her rhythm for a half moment before she recovered herself. Her nails raked against the back of his neck on one side and, her grip tightened on his shoulder, pulling him desperately to her. Her pace went from brisk to almost frantic. The lewd wet sounds of their fucking underscored by the breathless rush of her breathing. She twisted against him, trying to remember what she had been doing before his wicked fingers had intervened and she leaned closer, her teeth grazing his cheek with a wordless sound of frustration.

Dracula jolted under the unexpected pain, his arm buckling beneath them and he collapsed back onto the floor, dragging Agatha with him.

The change in angle was too much for both of them.

Agatha, her whole weight bringing her clit down onto his clever fingers, gasped. Coming harder than she had the first time and working herself ruthlessly onto his cock, revelling in the feel of him filling her as she came.

Dracula grasped at her hips, bucking up against her and roared into her neck as he spilled himself into the rubber. She had lost herself entirely at the end there and, as delightful as he had found her kegal control, there was something fiercer in the way her cunt closed about him in the depths of her orgasm. She wrung every ounce of pleasure out of him until he sagged back onto the floor, gasping for breath and unable to remember his own damn name.

Agatha seemed to be in little better state. She lay heavy and boneless over him, one hand still buried in his hair and flexing minutely, petting him still. Her entire body quivering in after shocks that threatened to completely unwind his mind with every further helpless squeeze of his tortured cock.

It was long hazy moments of breathing and recovery before Agatha seemed to come back to herself with a jolt.

“ _Christ_.” She lifted her head, flushed and utterly fucked. It was a good look on her.

Dracula made a choked sound when she made to rise and there was a messy moment where she nearly took the condom with her.

She laughed with what little breath she had to spare and dismounted a little more gracefully with his help.

Dracula let a breath whoosh from his lungs as his wrung-out self was robbed of her heat. He managed to make space for her in the crook of his arm when she did little more than topple sideways rather than anything more graceful.

“Naughty.” She nudged him with her elbow, still catching her breath. “I had intended to make it good for you. Distracting.”

Dracula coughed an incredulous laugh, his mind still scorched and useless due to her apparently less than stellar efforts.

“Men have died from lesser pleasures, woman.”

“You were very good against the door. I meant to reward you.”

Dracula could only laugh again because he was still so addled by her but her tone filtered through after a moment.

“Are you serious? I am _far_ from disappointed.”

“Still, the score is two to one.” Agatha shrugged as if it mattered little and Dracula grinned.

“Would the lady like a rematch?”

“As soon as my legs work again. Yes.” Agatha informed him coolly and he could only grin at her.

Delightful.

“Very well,” he adopted a serious tone after a moment, “I have a condition.”

“Mmh?”

“We break for dinner first. I really am starving now.”

“Well, if you’re still capable of making dinner, I definitely wasn’t trying hard enough.” Agatha smirked at him and they shared a tired laugh. She nodded against his chest after a moment. “I did originally come here to be fed.”

“You _liar_.” Dracula rumbled and she laughed again. His fingers toyed with the ends of her hair as he pondered how to word his next. Aiming for casual and probably missing by a country mile. “You have work in the morning?”

“After one of Lucy’s nights out? Good god, no.”

“Excellent. So…dinner, round two, perhaps a nap, and compare notes over breakfast?”

Agatha was silent for a moment and Dracula had time to realise that he was actually _braced_ for her response.

What the fresh hell was this anxiety?

“Add in a shower and let me sleep until brunch and I’m in.”

“Deal.” He extended his hand across his chest to her.

“Deal.” She shook firmly and let their hands fall, fingers clasped over his chest.

Dracula thought about getting up and then let his head fall back to the floor with a self deprecating chuckle.

Seemed like his legs didn’t work either.

**_Later, Brunch…_ **

Agatha woke _late_.

Decadently late judging by what her internal clock was telling her.

She stretched, skin sliding over Egyptian cotton sheets. Wriggling her way out from under a feather duvet that could have easily passed for a cloud, eyes squinted when met with blaring sunlight.

She winced, shielding her eyes with one hand and blinked rapidly, attempting to make the green spots recede from her vision.

It took a while, but the room soon resolved into focus.

Where the hell was she?

Agatha sat up, breathing out slowly and took stock.

 _Sore_. Was the first thought.

 _Thoroughly fucked_. Was the second and Agatha rubbed at her face and nodded with a pleased smile, it was coming back to her.

She was in Dracula’s penthouse. More accurately, in his bedroom marooned in the middle of his gigantic bed that could have easily slept a football team.

The man himself was nowhere to be seen but she doubted he had gone far. He had seemed all too willing to keep her around the night before.

Agatha allowed a moment of doubt to come and go. Yes, men sometimes changed their minds in the cold light of day, but it had definitely been daylight when he had woken her for a very enthusiastic round of morning sex. Which had been round…four?

She couldn’t really remember. It had all blurred together a little after the shower escapade.

Anyway, she had been promised brunch and had every intention of collecting after the -quite frankly- life altering meal he had made her the night before. She wouldn’t have believed that he had made it had he not done so right in front of her. His idea of a simple pasta dish had damn near blown her mind and convinced her that brunch was definitely worth staying for.

Judging by the smells wafting from somewhere kitchen-ward in the penthouse, he had already begun preparation for the same.

Excellent.

Agatha managed to drag herself from the bed and correctly identify the door which was the en suite and _not_ one of the two walk in closets the man had.

The shock of sitting on the cold porcelain of the toilet succeeded in waking her all the way up and Agatha was better able to appreciate Dracula as a host when both eyes were working in concert once more.

She spied a note as she was washing her hands, he’d sourced a toothbrush for her to use. Left out a brush for her hair and a baggie of hair ties that appeared to be freshly bought.

Once she was a bit fresher, hair restrained into a messy bun atop her head, Agatha padded back into the bedroom and found another note. A pair of drawstring shorts and a plain tee shirt had been left out for her with instructions to make free use of them.

So she was almost civilised and in _quite_ the pleasant mood when she left the bedroom and went in search of Dracula and/or some food.

The apartment was opulent. All open living spaces connected by broad corridors. The hardwood floors warm under her bare feet since the _entire_ Southern wall of the penthouse was floor to ceiling windows. Sunlight blasted in through the grey of the London skyline and there were easy chairs and lounging spaces even in the corridor. Piles of books at the foot of an aged leather armchair and a throw tossed negligently over a futon long enough for even Dracula to recline on it.

It took Agatha a moment to realise that the reason she had thought the furniture placement odd the night before was that the velvet wallpaper covering the walls had -in fact- been blinds drawn down over the windows.

Not that she’d had the brain cells spare to ask questions about interior décor because Dracula really was very distracting.

So distracting, in fact, that even hours later Agatha was so preoccupied by him that she walked into someone without him even being there.

“Whoa, there!”

Agatha stiffened all over, eyes front, and jerked back a step when confronted with a woman as tall as she was.

The stranger was all long limbs and grace. She caught Agatha hesitantly by the elbows before she had twitched out of reach and looked at her with wide nervous eyes, easily as blue as Agatha’s own.

Those eyes raked Agatha, a flush scoring over high cheekbones, obviously putting together why Agatha was here and the woman babbled a moment, attempting to explain her own presence it seemed like.

Another woman.

What the fuck?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Gaspeth!
> 
> Who is this?!
> 
> Are they safe from Aggie's wrath?!
> 
> Is Dracula?!
> 
> ...knowing me as an author, it really could go either way. 
> 
> Lemme know what you think of this latest update and if you enjoy me putting these two in AU's because, hey, I may have more than one rattling around in this skull of mine. 
> 
> Happy smooching day, folks!


	3. Family Meal

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have no excuse for this other than I wanted to write shippy fluff and family bants. 
> 
> The cast for the Balaurs is as follows:
> 
> Vladimir Balaur - Charles Dance (papa of the fam)  
> Sophia Balaur - Helen McCrory (mama to all)
> 
> Vincent Balaur - Richard Roxburgh (eldest son)  
> Anna Valerious-Balaur - Kate Beckinsale (married to Vincent, they have children as yet uncast)
> 
> Dracula Balaur - Claes Bang (of course, second son)
> 
> Gabriel Balaur - Gerard Butler
> 
> Christine Balaur-Voltaire - Rona Mitra  
> Michael Voltaire - Michael Sheen (husband to Christine)
> 
> Lucas Balaur - Luc Evans
> 
> Helena Balaur - Jaime Murray (twin to Lucas)  
> Myka Balaur-Wells - Joanne Kelly (married to Helena, they have a daughter together)
> 
> And the baby of the fam; Mathias Balaur - Jonathan Rhys Meyers (engaged to Lucy Westenra)
> 
> Yes, they have ALL played vampires in one thing or another. I am a terrible nerd. This should surprise precisely no one.

**3 – Family Meal**

There was a drawn out, irrational, moment when Agatha had terribly uncharitable thoughts about nearly the whole planet.

But only a moment.

“Myka!”

Agatha inhaled sharply, distracted by _another_ woman joining her and the stranger and having a hand thrust out toward her in greeting.

“Hello there, I’m Helena. The babbling one is Myka. I don’t think she expected you to be quite so captivating.” Helena smiled broadly and was, admittedly, a fox.

She was smaller than Agatha and Myka, reaching all the way to their chins, but she made up for it with the length of her straight black hair, classical beauty and matching mysteriously dark eyes. Her wicked grin seemed very familiar and Agatha blinked when she suddenly placed the name.

“Luke’s twin.” Agatha held out her hand and accepted Helena’s shake. Inhaling sharply and sweeping away the red-hot remnants of seething jealousy. Possessiveness that had swept through her when confronted with Myka and pole-vaulting to entirely the wrong conclusion.

Helena was Dracula’s younger sister, Agatha remembered from vague conversations with Lucy. Myka her American wife. They were apparently nauseatingly happy and had a cute kid of their own that everybody fawned over.

“You’re the inventor.” Agatha dredged up from somewhere and was rewarded with a beaming smile from Helena. She turned to Myka next, extending her hand and -this time- a genuine smile. “You restore the books.”

“For my sins.” Myka smiled with evident relief, shaking Agatha’s hand and looping an arm around Helena’s waist without seeming to realise it. “I heard from Lucy that you run the Sisterhood gym, on Marlborough Street. You do CQC?”

“My specialty is Krav Maga,” Agatha nodded, feeling on firmer footing now, “though I have been looking for someone to bring different disciplines in. Appeal to the more mixed martial arts crowd.”

“Myka can dismantle people with her bare hands. You could teach, couldn’t you, darling?” Helena nudged Myka.

“Well, I…I mean, it’s been years and I don’t have any qualifications…”

“Nonsense. She’s very bored with trying to spar against me. I’m too short to put up much of a fight. Please invite her around to play with you as you have legs that go on forever.” Helena turned back to smile at Agatha again and the sheer wattage of it was staggering.

Agatha coughed something like a laugh when she realised that she was entirely charmed _and_ that she had forgotten she was half dressed. She spoke to Myka.

“I’m more than amenable to that. If I can find my phone, we can exchange contact information.”

“It’s over here, Aggie!”

“ _Christ_.” Agatha huffed out a breath, tilting sideways to look beyond the couple in front of her and find Lucy lounging on the huge leather couch that dominated the living area of the penthouse. “Who let you out?”

“Matti came around and broke me out this morning. They did a full flush of my system or something. I feel healthy. It’s awful.” Lucy perked up, sipping of her suspiciously fizzy orange drink that Agatha suspected was already alcoholic despite it not yet being noon. Lucy arched backwards over the couch to look in the direction of the kitchen. “Sweetums, give Aggie’s clothes to Big D!”

“You know, she’s going to fit right in.” Helena muttered behind Agatha to Myka. Amusement evident in her tone.

“Clothes?” Agatha perked up a little bit at that. There were far too many people here for her not to be wearing underwear.

“Yeah, when Matti told me you were here, we figured you’d want to do the post shag strut with clean clothes that fit.” Lucy straightened up again with an unrepentant grin.

“How did you…?”

“Broke into your place. You have new keys now.” Lucy smiled brightly.

“You have a spare key!” Agatha threw up her hands but was distracted by the man himself appearing from behind the island work surface where Mathias stood.

“You, stir that. Watch that. Don’t let anything burn.” Dracula, looking a little harried, directed his brother and skirted the worktop, approaching Agatha with what did appear to be her gym bag. He smiled at Agatha and it did seem a little strained. “Clothes. This way.”

Agatha had little choice but to precede him when it was either get moving or get flattened. She spun on her heels, his hand finding her lower back and allowed herself to be steered back towards the bedroom.

“If you’re going to shag, do it loud enough for us all to enjoy!” Lucy called after them and Dracula swallowed a growl even as Agatha snorted in amusement.

Well, this was just…perfect. Hilarious and stupid but not as terrible as she had thought it might be ten minutes ago. Having his family descend was a lot less unpleasant than being confronted with a live-in partner that she hadn’t known about or something equally as awkward.

Agatha was momentarily distracted by the strength of the relief that had poured through her when she realised that Myka was nothing to do with Dracula in the romantic sense. She was not the _type_ to be jealous or possessive. She made it her business to only attach herself -albeit loosely- to those that were just as invested in her as she was them. Which was to say…interested in some casual sex when her schedule allowed for it. She was very much married to her work and tended to gravitate towards partners that were the same.

To have met Dracula the night before and -admittedly- shared a somewhat sensually revelatory night with him in more ways than one and find herself becoming…what? Attached?

It wasn’t like her.

Not like her at all.

She frowned as Dracula guided her into the bedroom and dropped her bag on the end of the football pitch sized bed. He turned to her, hands held up as if to fend her off.

“I would like to preface this by saying that my whole family are terrible wretches. Even the children. Goblins.”

“Do you want me to leave?” Agatha asked him outright, she didn’t want this to be a… _thing_.

“No!” Dracula dropped his hands and blinked. “I mean- -do you want to leave?”

“I don’t want this to be awkward.” Agatha folded her arms over her chest. “If you want me to go, then I can.”

“What I _want_ is to finish cooking brunch and eat it off your delectable self then have you for lunch but… _intruders_.” Dracula growled the last and the sound did unfortunate things to Agatha’s composure. “I did not expect them to all…swoop in like this. Though, considering their long history of shitebaggery, I should not be surprised.”

“Shitebaggery?” Agatha found herself smiling despite herself.

“It is a genetic skill that they all excel at cultivating.” He grumbled, scrubbing a hand through his rumpled hair.

Agatha took the opportunity to look him over and realised she probably shouldn’t have when there were several people in just the next room.

His huge feet were bare. He wore little more than a pair of black joggers through which she could see the very clear outline of his monster cock and a navy Oxford sweatshirt that rode up to show a sliver of his toned and furry belly when he rumpled his hands through his hair.

Agatha dragged her eyes back up his body to meet his dark gaze and realised she had been quite neatly caught when she found him grinning at her.

It was _unfair_ how handsome he was.

His chin was tilted down, his hand still tangled in his hair, mussed dark strands hanging over his forehead and he looked at her from beneath hooded lashes. A slice of his sharp smile gleamed at her and Agatha dropped her arms from over her chest, quite prepared to fully forget that there was anyone else in the penthouse and follow Lucy’s instructions to the letter.

Dracula took a step towards her, his hand catching in the tee shirt he had given her, pulling him into his gravity. Agatha’s chin tilted up, rocking up onto her toes, more than eager to meet him halfway.

“Coooeee! We’re here!”

Agatha froze, her breath mingling with Dracula’s when his eyes squeezed shut and he gruffed out a low sound of displeasure.

“Is that…?” Agatha frowned, thinking she recognised my voice.

“Yes,” Dracula squinted at her with one eye, clearly not enjoying himself as much as he could be, “that would be my mother. My parents have arrived.”

Agatha couldn’t help it, she rocked down onto the flats of her feet, a drawn out snort coming from her and laughing silently into his chest.

“Yes. Laugh it up. Temptress. You’re not the one they’ve come to torment.”

“And what have you done to deserve such horrid treatment?” Agatha looked up at him, eyes wide with faux innocence.

“Dared to enjoy myself, it would seem.” Dracula, his hands resting gently on her hips, considered her a moment. “There’s going to be a lot of them, they’re going to be loud and obnoxious and far too personal, so if you want to duck out whilst you still can, I would understand. _However_ …”

He inhaled deeply, stalling a moment and Agatha simply tilted her head, watching him with faint amusement and letting him flounder. She had the sense he was not often caught off guard like this. He was harried and flummoxed and it was surprisingly _adorable_.

“However, I should like to see you again. If you are amenable.”

“See you foooorrr…?” Agatha left the blank for him to fill.

“Dinner, dancing, movies, Netflix and hardly any chill, a _lot_ of sex because I think we’re rather good at it together and…I really want to wrestle you at some point.”

Agatha laughed suddenly, her grin lighting up her whole face.

“And I get all that even if I do abandon you to your family’s tender mercies?”

“Well...I would expect to be compensated in some manner. I’m sure I can think of something…”

“I don’t mind your family.” Agatha decided to let him off the hook a little. “I’ve met your mother before when she came to see Lucy about cake or something, she seemed perfectly nice and Matt is a sweetheart. Besides, if I can put up with Lucy’s bullshit, I think I’ve had a crash course in dealing with ‘shitebaggery’.”

He flashed her a sudden, stunning, smile.

“Really?”

“I’m actually just in dire need of protein and I _really_ want to eat whatever I can smell cooking through there. I was promised brunch.”

“Then brunch you shall have.” Dracula grinned for her again and she thought about kissing him then and there but realised that was a bad idea.

Particularly if his mother had arrived and was expecting to see him any time soon. 

“Hmm, yes, hold that thought. I’m going to throw them out as soon as they are fed.”

“Promises, promises.”

“It’s not too late. We could tie the bedsheets together. Make a break for it out the window.” Dracula offered airily.

“Do they even open?”

“I find hurling furniture through plate glass usually opens many doors to me.” Dracula shrugged and wrinkled his nose in a pout when someone called for him from the other room.

Sounded like Mathias struggling with brunch.

“I must go. Follow me when you are suitably girded.” Dracula surprised her by ducking to press a kiss to her forehead. She was so stunned that she nearly let him leave, forgetting.

“Wait!” She snagged him by the elbow.

“Rethinking?”

“I’m thinking you should put on some underwear.” Agatha dragged him deeper into the room and shoved him towards a wall that looked like it might open into some sort of storage that may contain boxers.

“Really?” Dracula glanced down at himself and she took a second to wonder if he was serious. She decided, incredibly, that he was.

“Yes, _lekker_ , really. There are people in Hyde park that can tell the time by its shadow.” She shoved him towards his closet, grinning at his snort of amusement and studied her own clothing situation.

Hoping against hope that Lucy hadn’t been _entirely_ inappropriate for once in her life.

Of course, Agatha made up for impropriety, real or imagined, by being marvellously distracted by Dracula performing a quick change with his back to her. He really _was_ fantastically built. All long limbs and feline power to him. He made short work of stripping to his skin and then pulling on a pair of black (silk?) underwear, dragging his dark joggers back on but opting for a plain white tee shirt that had to have been tailored to him.

He turned to catch her staring and Agatha smirked, feeling heat crawling up her neck, but didn’t look away.

“I’m feeding the horde and then getting rid of them. We are owed a conversation.” He prowled back towards her, hand settling in the cinch of her lean waist.

“Looking forward to it.” Agatha tilted her head back expectantly and he gave a low gruff of a groan and ducked to press a biting kiss to her throat over the thrum of her pulse.

She sucked in a breath to rebuke him at the sting that would no doubt mark but he was already disappearing towards the door.

Agatha made a mental note to punish him for that with some sort of sensual torture in retribution later. Still, she had best get changed herself before Lucy came to find her to prise information from her.

Digging into her gym bag, Agatha was hardly surprise to find that most of the contents was the nicest underwear she owned. She rolled her eyes a little at that but picked one of the comfier sets in attendance and rummaged deeper for actual clothing to go with it.

She sighed when she found that Lucy had packed her only the scantiest things in her wardrobe in typical Westenra fashion. Still, there was her favourite pair of leggings that shouldn’t be too scandalous despite the sheer panels on the sides of her thighs and hips once she wriggled into them. She opted to just duck back into the tee shirt Dracula had given her and knot it at one hip so it didn’t look like she was flapping about in the excess fabric.

Further rummaging revealed her favoured deodorant, so she didn’t smell of _Fury_ or _Storm_ or whatever ungodly name male scents were given these days. Ooh, perfume too. Lovely.

One final spritz, a set of slip on shoes that Lucy had thoughtfully (genuinely) included in the go bag and Agatha was as ready as she was getting.

She thought briefly about being awkward, was she supposed to be ashamed? She had moved over from Holland over a decade ago and the cultures were similar in _many_ ways but also different in a great deal more.

Ah well, fuck it. If the worst came to it, she’d just pretend she couldn’t speak English.

Agatha swept out of the bedroom, ready to face the dragon’s den and padded along the corridor towards the main living area.

She arrived to find _significantly_ more people than she had left.

She recognised Sophia Balaur, mother to the whole brood, immediately. She was ensconced in the steaming kitchen area with her son, an apron pulled over her designer dress that probably cost more than Agatha’s rent. Her hair was piled up into a sleek coil atop her head, a distinct streak of silver winding back through her ebony hair. She had eyes as dark as Dracula’s and Helena’s and it was evident that the majority of her children had received their colouring from her.

She seemed to have seamlessly taken over the running of Dracula’s own kitchen and appeared to be heckling him about whatever was grilling in the oven. He was arguing with her but quite evidently not getting anywhere.

Lucy and Matt were cosied into the couch together, wrapped around one another as was their preferred state. Speaking with an older man with harshly handsome features, silvery blue eyes and a voice deeper than his sons’. He had hair the colour of flame swept sleekly back from his sharp featured face and a matching manicured beard graced his jaw. Even on a Sunday morning, he was dressed in a deep navy suit with a crisp white shirt. His only deference to casual being that the buttons at his throat had been left open. This would be Vladimir then, Patriarch of the whole clan.

Agatha didn’t recognise the two men, as tall and as dark as one another, lounging over in a corner cradling miscellaneous drinks near to their chests and watching everything unfold as if it were performance art.

Helena, Myka and another couple were involved in a deep conversation over by the massive table that dominated a full third of the apartment’s sumptuous living space. Agatha had been baffled as to why a bachelor needed such a huge table but if his entire family descended on him of a Sunday morning, things abruptly made more sense.

“Agatha! Come over!” Helena waved her over eagerly and, caught, Agatha had little choice but to move over to join them.

She was promptly taken by the elbow and drawn into their little group of people, sandwiched between Helena and a new woman that looked Agatha up and down with the same predatory interest that _all_ the Balaur siblings seemed to possess.

“I shall introduce you but don’t worry about remembering anyone’s names, we know we are legion.” Helena prefaced and waved first to the other woman and then the man that stood at her side. “This is Christine, my elder sister and her husband Michael Voltaire. They run a security firm that contracts out to unsavoury types. Terrible warmongers, don’t associate with them.”

Agatha smiled, shaking hands as she was directed. She nodded through Helena introducing herself to Christine and Michael and dutifully turned when Helena moved onto the rest.

“The two louts over there, guarding the drinks cabinet, are Gabriel on the left and Lucas, my twin, to our right…you know, I don’t actually know what they do other than make my life difficult?”

“They work in the family business. Luke is an architect and Gabriel works in accounting.” Myka spoke over the top of her wife’s head as an aside to Agatha.

“You know Matt and Lucy, that’s our father, Vladimir, talking to them about…oh god, he’s teaching them how to fold napkins. The man is a wedding _menace_. Over there, that’s mama, Sophia, whom I think you’ve already met briefly. We’ll introduce properly later when they’re done heckling. Questions so far?”

“Is this…everyone?” Agatha blinked, attempting to absorb all the information she’d been given. She was good with names and faces, had to be when you taught a dozen people at once multiple times a week, but she usually had home turf advantage for that.

“Oh, no, Vincent -oldest brother- and his wife Anna are on goblin duty this weekend. They’re looking after the assembled brood and will very kindly fill them with sugar and rile them up before giving them back to respective parents.” Helena smiled brightly at Agatha.

“Are they coming too?”

“No, they had some sort of outward bounding thing planned. Anna’s parenting technique involves mild terror and physical exhaustion as often as possible. Works _very_ well for her and our little one is always so grateful to come home with her very soft mums that don’t make her climb trees.”

Agatha laughed at Helena’s quite obvious glee at her sister-in-law’s nannying style but also the pride of which she spoke of her own daughter.

“What about you, Agatha? Much in the way of family over here?” Christine spoke suddenly, tucking herself into Michael’s side as she did.

“Ah, nowhere near this many. It was only my brother Abraham and I for the longest time. He then married -Peggy- and now my niece, Zoe.”

“How old is Zoe?” Helena cut in again.

“Eleven, she is starting -ah- secondary school, in the autumn.”

“So are Tina and David!” Helena brightened considerably. She waved at herself and Myka and then Christine and Michael. “Tina is ours and David is their eldest. We could organise a playdate.”

“Do almost twelve-year-olds have playdates?” Agatha wasn’t precisely the most maternal. She enjoyed spending time with Zoe and they looked so alike they were often mistaken for mother and daughter. Still, she was hazy on when parents ceased to arrange friends for their children.

“All intel points to ‘no’.” Michael offered, sipping his drink. “There seems to be a terrible preoccupation with being _cool_.”

“Which we shall never be, for we are ancient and out of touch.” Christine agreed with a smirk of amusement, this was obviously a great discussion between the family at home.

“Anna manages to be cool and she’s -god- twenty-seven months pregnant or something.” Helena threw up a hand at the injustice of it all.

“I thought she was doing…outward…bounding today?” Agatha frowned.

“Oh yeah, this is not her first rodeo with the whole multiplying thing. She loves it for, like, the first six months and then she’s desperate for it to be over.” Myka nodded to Agatha in sympathy of her mild terror. “She’s due in about a week so she’s _super_ done.”

“Why does she keep doing it if she hates it?” Christine hunched her shoulders in a baffled shrug. She turned to her husband. “I mean, I love you _and_ your penis but if you knocked me up more than three times, I’d have cut something off.”

“Glad it never came to that, love.” Michael laughed into his drink.

“How do they even find the _time_? Their house is always filled with children.” Christine seemed totally mystified.

“Well, exactly, they all distract one another, don’t they?” Helena pointed out to her sister. “By the time you get to the fourth one, the first one is old enough to look after the smaller ones and -apparently- you can go off like greased weasels and produce tadpole number five.”

Agatha listened with some sort of vague horror, glancing over at the _many_ siblings in the room. Calculating how many of them there were and how many children _they_ had and…good lord.

“Oh yes, we multiply.” Christine touched her fingers to Agatha’s elbow to underscore her point. “The men in this family could impregnate a tree stump just by standing near it, so, you know, _up your birth control_.”

“ _Love_ ,” Michael chided her, pressing a kiss to her temple, “we are here to make Dracula suffer, not terrorise an innocent bystander.”

“I can multitask.” Christine defended herself.

“Is there any particular reason Dracula is being made to suffer?” Agatha attempted to steer the conversation to a topic that wasn’t going to turn her prematurely grey.

The siblings looked at each other, seemingly surprised that she would ask and unprepared for the question.

“Well…” Christine frowned, pondering a moment.

“I mean…” Helena narrowed her eyes, thinking it over.

“He told us to.” Myka interjected coolly. “Three years ago; ‘the day I know I’m serious about anyone, you’ll know it too because I won’t be able to keep it to myself, then you may all descend upon me and laugh uproariously at my expense’. Said that to Matt, dinner, at our place, when he was drowning his sorrows after Lucy had broken up with him again.”

“Ah! See? Married the clever one.” Helena pointed to her wife. “Sexy _and_ eidetic memory.”

“That’s _right_!” Christina pointed at Myka. “He was being an arse about being unattached and how Matt should cut his losses or some shite. Very good, Myka.”

“I’m here for revenge.” Michael cut in. “The wretch was awful to me when I was pining after this one.” He pulled his wife a little closer into his side and Agatha couldn’t help but smile.

“Well, you can’t be _completely_ terrible to him. We are only together because he’s an interfering menace.” Christine allowed after a moment.

“That’s no reason not to make him suffer.” Michael informed her primly.

“Children! Why is the table not set?!”

Helena and Christine bodily flinched when their mother called to them from nearby. Sophia Balaur was suddenly _there_ , eyes only for Agatha. Her apron still cinched about her waist and she reached out with one manicured hand dripping with finery to beckon Agatha closer.

“Come _here_ , my dear. It would seem that the barbarian horde has lost ALL manners I raised them with and no one has given you a drink! We will fix this.”

“Nice meeting you!” Agatha had time to wave before Sophia gripped her by the wrist and pulled her bodily from the group.

“Good luck!” Michael gave her a hasty thumbs up as she was dragged away.

Agatha glanced over to the kitchen area, found Dracula looking at her with something concerned in his expression and she smiled blithely at him. This was hilarious and she was actually enjoying herself immensely.

Perhaps a _little_ at his expense.

“You two, shoo, Mathias, help your brother. Lucy, fetch Agatha a drink.”

Agatha blinked when Lucy not only _obeyed_ but did so without complaint and even a small smile sent Sophia’s way.

“You shall have to teach me how to do that.” Agatha murmured, watching Lucy disappear to heckle Gabriel and Lucas out of the way of the drinks stash.

“You just ask nicely, sweetheart. Sit with me.” Sophia dropped onto the space vacated on the couch nearest to Vladimir who sat on an armchair like a conquering warlord.

An austere image that was somewhat besmirched by his long fingers twining a napkin into the shape of a swan. Satisfied with his creation, he set it aside and held his free hand out to his wife expectantly.

“Vlad, my love, this is Agatha. Lucy’s employer. She runs the gym.” Sophia slid her hand into Vladimir’s, letting their fingers tangle.

“Ah, a pleasure to finally meet you. I have missed you when I have visited _Sisterhood_.” Vladimir sat forward, a sharp smile that was all Dracula gracing his mouth. “A fine establishment. You have built it yourself?”

“The building was barren when we moved in.” Agatha shook his hand, noting his hands were surprisingly callused though from what she could not tell. “It’s been a labour but I love it. So.”

“Not such a labour then.” Vladimir released her hand and sat back to relax, studying Agatha with a cool blue gaze. It did not feel aggressive in any way, simply curious.

“So.” Sophia decided that the niceties were done with. “You and Dracula.”

Agatha blinked, surprised it had taken her this long if she were honest. She hadn’t heard a question in there but recognised a response was required.

“Dracula and I.” She settled on mildly.

“Oh, I like her.” Sophia glanced at her husband and he simply smiled, bringing their hands to his mouth to press a kiss to her knuckles in apparent agreement. Sophia turned back to Agatha. “Highly unusual, you realise.”

“Hmm?” The list of things that Agatha had found unusual about the night before and, indeed, the morning after was rather expansive. She needed it to be pared down a little.

“Dracula bringing you home.”

Agatha tilted her head and said nothing. She thought it highly unlikely the case. Perhaps his mother simply did not know about her son’s conquests.

“Oh, he’s a glutton for everything. I am well aware.” Sophia laid her free hand to her chest in emphasis. “However, we usually only see potential interests from a distance. A very enforced distance. We spoiled him terribly in the raising, you see, he doesn’t share. Let alone _tell us_ when he’s interested in someone.”

“Ah,” there had been a miscommunication, “Matt called last night, after the club, I believe Dracula mentioned my presence in passing.” Agatha attempted to explain.

“Hmm, I can see how you might see it that way but -of all our clever children- he is by far the most deliberate in everything he does. He wanted us to know.” Sophia hummed and glanced at Vladimir. “Proud of himself, do you think?”

“Pride has never been lacking in him.” Vladimir snorted in amusement and agreement. “Though, in this instance, warranted.”

Agatha blinked, wondering if that had been some sort of backhanded compliment.

“Drink, Aggie. Mimosa!” Lucy dropped down to sit on Agatha’s other side. She pressed a glass into Agatha’s hand and spoke to the future in-laws. “You got to the part where you compare her to something a cat’s dragged in and is all proud of itself about?”

“I cannot help it if my children wish to prove they can love as well as we.” Sophia reached around to swat harmlessly at Lucy. “ _Shoo_ , future daughter, the grown-ups are talking.”

“I’m off to tell tales to Big D, he looks too relaxed over there.” Lucy grinned wickedly, winked at Agatha and sashayed off to annoy Dracula, still buried in managing brunch for the five thousand.

“What a terrible streak of mischief.” Sophia lamented coolly.

“She shall fit in most well, beloved.” Vladimir agreed benignly and turned back only when Agatha spoke.

“I feel I should manage expectations; Dracula and I have known _of_ one another though we only met last night. We are…casual?” Agatha sipped her drink and was somewhat put off when both of Dracula’s parents simply laughed at her.

“Oh! My dear, no, we should manage _your_ expectations.” Sophia covered her mouth with her hand in an attempt to stifle her giggles.

“I am afraid you have been marked for pursuit, my dear.” Vladimir spoke, a rumble of amusement beneath his voice. “Dracula may be many things, but he has never managed ‘casual’.”

“Perhaps this is a conversation best had between he and I then?” Agatha raised a brow, not entirely sure how she felt about…any of that.

“Off you go, we’ll wait.” Sophia waved her off with an imperious hand and Agatha tilted her head in acknowledgement. She had walked into that one.

“Thank you for the conversation.” Agatha managed as politely as she could and rose to her feet, taking herself and her glass to what seemed to be the relative safety of the open plan kitchen.

Dracula had either persuaded his brothers to join him in the kitchen or they had been drafted in by a higher power before Sophia had come to wrangle Agatha.

“Honestly, Mati, you call that piping?”

“Shut it.” Matt laughed, biting his lip as he…yes, piped melted chocolate into intricate shapes on greaseproof paper. Presumably these shapes were to be used to garnish the slices of cheesecake already laid out on pristine white plates.

Agatha blinked, taking in the whole of the kitchen and realised that she might find a lesser set up in a Michelin star restaurant. There were vast expanses of work surfaces, all of them festooned with the thinly veiled chaos which was a multiple course meal coming together right before being served.

She had known that Dracula could cook, he had proved that with his handmade pasta the night before. Made fresh, in front of her.

She had not realised that he easily could have run his own restaurant if this was the performance he could magic out of nothing on a Sunday morning for his uninvited (or perhaps obliquely invited?) family.

“Surviving?” Dracula turned from his place by the hob, watching something simmer that gave off the decadent scent of garlic butter.

“Thriving.” Agatha corrected him with a reassuring smile. She moved closer, up onto her toes to see what he was up to. “Prawns?”

“Scallops.” Dracula lifted the lid of the pan to let her see what was searing and sizzling inside. “I’ve made a bit of everything. Didn’t know what you’d like.”

Agatha made a point at glancing back at the assembled throng of his family.

“They don’t count,” he dismissed them as a concern, sipping of his water, “they’ll eat anything. Heathens.”

“I resemble that remark.” Luke grumbled from his place by the sink, relegated to kitchen porter duties.

“Can I help?” Agatha glanced around at what was going on around her.

Matt had finished his apparently sub-par piping, having put the tray into the fridge for the chocolate to set. He took the time to drip some chocolate on Lucy’s nose and draw an indignant yelp from her. Gabriel, cleared down that space with great sweeps of his arms and two cloths before beginning to gather plates from a cupboard.

“Hmm, I am about to plate everything. Help me carry everything over?” Dracula glanced at her, his attention struggling between her and his kitchen project. “You’re really alright?”

“I’m fine. I promise.” Agatha laughed, feeling surprisingly relaxed despite herself.

It was overwhelming, certainly. She had expected a quiet morning of flirting, food and perhaps a few more rounds of sex before she sloped off home.

She had _not_ expected the man’s entire family to turn up demanding to be fed and to introduce themselves to her. She hadn’t thought that they would all be so bloody charming (though it made sense, given Dracula’s evident interpersonal strengths) or kind or welcoming. She hadn’t expected it to be inferred that Dracula’s pursuit of her was in any way unusual for him. She had thought this a mutual, casual, liaison.

Dracula himself had sort of blown that out of the water by asking her to see him again as often as possible. For the foreseeable in the least.

“My mother didn’t terrify you too much?”

“No. She and your father are actually very sweet together.” Agatha shook her head with a smile.

“Gabriel, can you get everyone up to the table. Matt, see to the drinks, hmm?” Dracula looked like he didn’t know what to do with that information and turned to speak to his brothers instead.

“On it!” His two brothers called back to show they had heard and moved off on their respective tasks. It was evident this was a routine.

Agatha thought that…pleasant. Dracula was not at all what she had expected. A loner bachelor in his ivory tower. She had known he had family but he had not expected them to all be so familiar with one another, bickering and arguing, laughing and heckling one another light heartedly. She had not expected Dracula to _revel_ in it.

And he was.

Despite his reticence when he had thought she would be intimidated, that she would want to leave, he enjoyed having his people around him. It was plainly evident.

“Your mother seems to think you’re in this for the long haul.” The words just seemed to fall out of her and Agatha blinked in surprise at herself. That…had not been what she had meant to say.

“That’s my cue. Got this, big brother.” Luke dried his hands from the sink, scooped up a huge pile of plates and moved off towards the huge dining table.

“I…” Dracula floundered a moment, obviously caught off guard.

“Forgive me,” Agatha shook her head, “I meant this is what your mother spoke to me about, not that I needed…”

“Would it be so terrible?” Dracula cut her off, watching her carefully.

Agatha hesitated a moment and he hurried on.

“I like you. You fascinate me. I find you captivating. I am not easily impressed but you hold me enthralled. It is…something I would like to explore.” He cocked his head, attempting to moderate himself and failed. “I am not usually so eager to put myself in a position to be rejected but I think you even less willing than I to take the risk. You are worth that risk, Agatha.”

“I am married to my work.” She warned him.

“As am I. We can be one another’s mistress.” He offered immediately and Agatha snorted a laugh of amusement.

“You’d settle for that?”

“There is no settling when it comes to you.” Dracula raked her with a molten gaze and Agatha swayed a little towards him before she remembered the dozen other people in the room.

God, were they still here?

“We should feed your family.” She murmured.

“They can wait.” He seemed intent on some sort of answer from her.

“Yes, but I don’t want to wait longer than I have to.” Agatha looked up at him with an answering smile. “You did promise to throw them out as soon as they were fed.”

“And you will stay. After?”

“Of course. This is a lot of calories, I’m going to have to work them off somehow.”

Dracula grinned, wolfish, and ducked towards her. Kissing her firmly.

“Feeeed uuuusss!” What sounded like the whole family howled from the direction of the table.

Dracula growled against her mouth and Agatha laughed into him. Drawing a back a little, a flush high on her cheeks. She had forgotten about them all anyway.

“We’d best do as we are told.” Dracula murmured. “Still up for helping me serve the ravening horde?”

“Of course.” Agatha nodded, holding her hands out for whatever he wanted to give her.

Dracula grinned, reading her gaze far too accurately. His dark eyes a promise of their own.

“FEED US!”

Still, food first.

**_Later…_ **

Agatha lounged on the couch, feeling a little shellshocked, and cradled her glass in one hand.

She was stuffed full of food that had been even better than it had smelled. Her sides were sore from laughing and she was pleasantly buzzed from the mimosas that Lucy had kept her supplied with all afternoon. She felt lissom and sleepy, stretched out on the butter soft couch with her bare feet propped on the coffee table.

The apartment was finally quiet. Dracula had succeeded in ushering his parents towards the door, deflecting all manner of entreaties as to when they would both be seen again.

Sophia and Vladimir had been the last to leave.

Those who were parents had left earlier in order to pick up their children. Leaving Gabriel, Lucas, Matt, Lucy, Sophia and Vladimir to draw Agatha and Dracula into some sort of board game about strategy and surviving a zombie apocalypse.

They had all been very jealous that Agatha had managed to draw the dog character card for her to move about the board and the friendly game had dissolved into chaos when they had realised that she was also to be the traitor of the group. As each character had two objectives.

Agatha smiled at the memory of it. They had all been _convinced_ that the traitor in the cards was Vladimir, a villainous aspect he seemed to revel in playing to the hilt with cartoonish glee. Sophia had scolded him for being a terrible influence on the children and there had been howls and insults when Agatha had revealed herself to be the winner by destroying the carefully cultivated colony against the zombie hordes in one fell swoop.

Still, it had been…nice.

Following the game, Gabriel, Matt and Lucy had made their excuses, announcing that they were headed to the pub away from all the old farts to enjoy themselves.

Sophia had ordered in a truly sumptuous afternoon tea for all that remained and Agatha had filled herself with cakes and tea whilst observing Sophia fuss over Dracula, Luke and Vladimir until they had satisfied her that they were fine. Sophia was a powerful personality, one that seemed to dominate even Vladimir’s naturally overwhelming presence, but she managed to rein herself in from being truly overbearing and had restricted herself to her own family rather than setting Agatha in her sights also.

Agatha stifled a yawn. She was so _full_ and sleepy.

She was not used to days of such decadence, even on her own Sundays. She’d order in a treat of food for herself and have a relatively relaxed day of mild paperwork to do with the gym and allow herself to physically recuperate from a week at the gym.

Spending the day with Dracula and his family had been -surprisingly- pleasant.

She wondered idly if it was the type of thing she might become accustomed to.

“Alone at last.”

Agatha blinked hazily up at him and managed a smile when he indulged her with one of his own. She blinked, surprised a little, when his expression seemed so terribly _fond_.

“You are exhausted.” Dracula smiled for her again, more amused this time and Agatha managed a grunt in agreement.

She patted the space beside her on the couch.

“Don’t mind if I do.” Dracula folded down to sit beside her and seemed to hesitate a moment.

Agatha went to the effort of shifting herself closer to him and with that inch, he took a mile. She squeaked a little when he lifted her effortlessly and settled her across his lap, tucking her against his chest.

Agatha decided she was too content to take umbrage and settled instead for resting her head against his shoulder. She was surprised to note that she _fit_ against him.

She was usually too tall, too gangly, too much arm and leg and pointy bits to fit comfortably into another’s lap. Masculine lovers seemed to not like that she always had arms and legs left over when they attempted to engulf her and Agatha was usually the one doing the holding with her more feminine lovers.

There was just so much of Dracula. He dwarfed every part of her. Bigger and broader and hedging her on all sides. It had been a stretch with past lovers but he was perfectly at ease. Stretching his long legs out to rest on the coffee table, hands occupied with tracing the length of her legs from hip to toes and back again. His other hand delved into her hair, pulling the tie free and he massaged her scalp as the thick mass tumbled down her back.

“Mmmm.” Agatha pressed a small kiss to the hollow of his throat and she felt him smile as he dropped his own kiss atop her head.

“Like that?”

“Mm-hmm.” She nodded into his neck.

He seemed to enjoy touching her at every opportunity. Not entirely in a sexual manner either. He was very attracted to her, she’d have to be comatose not to notice that, but he also simply liked to be near her. He had attempted not to crowd her throughout the afternoon and had only fully relaxed when she had relented, shifting her chair closer to his and leaning into his side. Giving her permission for skin privileges in front of others.

“We should move.” She murmured eventually. Realising she was on the verge of dozing.

“Why?”

“I’m going to fall asleep if we don’t.”

“Are you against naps on principle?” His smile was audible.

“Not at all. It might be a trifle boring for yourself if I am doing nothing but drooling on you though.”

“Mutual napping may occur. Might I suggest we adjourn to the bedroom? This couch is comfortable but likely to concertina us if we are not careful.”

“A horrid prospect.” She agreed.

“Very well. Hold on.”

Agatha yelped when he suddenly _moved_. Scooping her up effortlessly and standing with her in his arms like she weighed nothing. She blinked, surprised that he had managed it and found him grinning insufferably at her surprise.

“You could have put your back out.” She scolded.

“Unlikely, you are but a small wafer.”

“Nothing about me is small.” Agatha grumped.

“That would be relative, woman.” He chuckled and she supposed she had to agree.

She _was_ exceedingly tall, taller than any of the other women in attendance today, even Myka, but Dracula was obscenely large so it didn’t appear to bother him in the slightest. She must seem small and delicate in comparison to him. Dainty even.

Well, there was a first time for everything, she supposed.

Dracula carried her through to the bedroom and settled her down on the bed still rumpled from the morning. He wasted no time in yanking off his shirt and shucking his trousers before turning his attention to her. Agatha allowed him to remove her shoes easily enough and nodded when his fingers skated up her legs to pluck at the waistband of her leggings. She wriggled helpfully to strip them away, attempting to wake for the shenanigans about to occur, but he surprised her again.

Dracula crawled into the bed beside her, leaving his shorts on, and tucked her neatly against his side, letting her half sprawl over his chest. He seemed to like the weight of her there.

“You don’t want…what round are we on?”

“No idea and I thought we were napping?”

“Both activities do hold appeal.” Agatha nodded tiredly and she felt the rumble of his chuckle beneath her cheek.

“Shall we agree to an intermission and reconvene later?”

“I cannot stay tonight. Work tomorrow.”

“I suppose I shall have to take you home at some point then?”

“I thought you already had.”

“Touché.” Dracula acknowledged. “Go to sleep, we can speak again when you are more sensical.”

“Mmh.” Agatha agreed and she would deny it later but she certainly snuggled into his side.

It was surprisingly luxurious to be draped fully across someone and not have to worry about crushing the breath out of them. Dracula was her equal in that manner. They simply…fit with one another.

Agatha smiled softly at that thought and it was in that pleasant frame of mind that she fell asleep.

Knowing she would have something, someone, pleasant to wake to.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp, that's it folks, just a cute short one. 
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed it. I don't know if there's more to come from this universe. The lack of vampirism, magic and explosions is a bit...vanilla for me. 
> 
> I'm much more likely to write more of the Shadow Partners 'verse. 
> 
> However, it'd be nice to know if y'all have any requests for anything for I have a few ideas for other AU's such as something kinda Buffy the Vampire Slayer and also something a bit Hotel Transylvania 3. 
> 
> Thanks for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> So, any requests as to where I should go with this?
> 
> Yes, I am cruel in leaving this here but if you've read my other fics, you could hardly have been expecting otherwise :D
> 
> Next chapter soon!


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